The time had passed, they knew too well
when first they fell under true love’s spell
That delight they felt, a-stir in the garden
no longer tolled the arbor bell…
‘Respectability’ had pierced their fairy dreams
exposed them to sundry maudlin whims
rerouted their lodestars toward middling others
knitted them labels of ‘sister and brother’
THE PERIMETER
Leaning against the fence
that divides me from them,
I gaze outward into the
landscape I’m destined to roam.
Behind me, inside the fence,
are sounds of laughter and music,
sounds that don’t exist here,
sounds that never existed here.
I wish I didn’t hear the sounds.
Though I know it’s hopeless,
I turn and start climbing,
but it happens again like
so many times before.
I climb—the fence grows taller,
I climb again, it grows again.
I climb no more, it’s useless.
I can’t get in there, I never could.
I wish I knew the reason why.
Outside the fence, in the perimeter,
is where I’ll stay, obscene rabble
cruelly shunned by the insiders
proud in their narrow virtuous views.
Out here is lonely freedom—
freedom to think,
to feel,
to create,
to live,
unbound by fetters of respectability.
Out here is where I belong.
Stand straight - stay unaffected
They're watching your every move,
If not they have reason -
And no one will believe you
Your heart will say panic,
But your head knows to be quiet,
It anchors your survival
Smile, but not with teeth,
Polite - but not too scary,
Remember our teeth breed fear
Don’t make eye contact,
The police are looming near -
And they are awaiting the call of a white woman's tears
Don’t speak, unless spoken too,
Don’t be too loud -
Again they will call the police on you
Speak softly, because -
Softness equals professional,
If this is too difficult -
The mirror is a great practice tool
She had straightened her hair,
She had to seem more ‘presentable’
No longer were her curls, wild and free,
Now tamed by expected conformity
She was the only black girl in the room,
The atmosphere suffocated by others judgement,
They whisper and laugh -
Yet she still remains professional
She has no other option,
She gives a polite, strained smile
She has to keep calm,
She can’t give a reaction
She doesn’t have the privilege,
To defend herself without any issues,
She patiently waits, her eyes on the clock
Waiting for the moment prove herself for the job
Now it is her turn - she enters the room,
She sits down, then smiles at the interviewer,
She is qualified, miles ahead of the other participants,
Despite her being the most qualified, she won’t be considered
She did extremely well,
Not one stutter,
She was impressive,
But they already had a ‘diversity’ hire
A secret rule,
Is one black person,
Just so HR can’t accuse of racism,
As soon as she leaves, her resume is ripped up
The Great Man is like an ice mountain, cold and unwavering, fearless of opinion,
Devoid of virtues that accompany the respect and respectability of the herd,
If he cannot lead, he walks alone on the rough paths of his destiny,
Knowing he is ineffable, he tastes the bitterness of unshared intimacy.
When not speaking to himself, he wears an impenetrable and mysterious mask,
Within him exists an inaccessible solitude, untouched by praise or criticism,
In this silence, he finds the strength to never hesitate,
And in this isolation, he discovers his pure and unaltered essence.
Like a solitary stag in the forest of thoughts, he follows his path,
Without seeking familiarity, he finds the bitter taste of truth,
He is a soul dancing on the edge of a misunderstood world,
Where the echoes of the herd cannot penetrate his depths.
The Great Man is like a star in the infinite night, shining far away,
Misunderstood by the crowd, but blinding in his own unique light,
In this distance, he discovers the freedom to truly be himself,
And in this vast and silent space, he finds his eternity.
so many gallons of it, of highest quality,
smooth but potent: where did it come from?
the servants who filled the jars with water
have the clue, but must keep mum;
most guests, incurious, gratefully quaff it
he’d first refused his mother’s hint, but she
told the servants to do whatever he said,
confident, it seemed, in his generosity,
not to say frivolity, in using such power,
towards hospitality, even drunkenness
since this time and place, wine
can claim religious respectability,
and must be on the menu of any posthumous paradise,
as ambrosial at least as that at Cana,
with the tasteful byline ‘a little taste of heaven’
Joseph Pujol, Flatulist
1/6/1857 - 8/8/1945
He started working as a baker
And ended up being the same
But for nearly thirty years he
Enjoyed international fame.
Using his natural talent
For quite a long while
He entertained the elite
In his own unique style.
He could break wind at will
With superb sound control
Wore a special pair of breeches
With an appropriately placed hole
And, with a series of tubes
Could play tunes on a flute
Blow out a distant candle
Imitate a duck or coot.
He gave delight to millions
With his travelling show
Cheered and feted wherever
He was invited to go
He couldn’t compete with
The noise of the first Great War
So he retired back to his shop
To become a baker once more.
So, All hail le Petomane
The man who made of it an art,
And added respectability to,
The discreetly dropped fart.
Before crowned heads of Europe
At the height of his glory
Sadly the modern world has
Almost forgotten his story.
"I" lends respectability
To extant personality
And offers much to those it serves -
Perhaps more than it should deserve.
Important as this "I" might be
It lacks depth in humility
And sometimes fails humanity
By being its own efigy.
Beyond the realm we know as "I"
Is that which we identify
As beneficial harmony
That honors truth and equity.
It is a place of selfless grace
With neither gender, class nor race;
No self-proclaimed philosophy
Nor strident religiosity.
It prompts no economic scheme
Of gain derived through plan or dream
And holds the harness of the Id
As Ego, superego did.
It gives no thoughtless verity
To "sunshine days" integrity.
Unawed by status or by wealth -
This is the realm of "Beyond Self."
This realm is blessed with keen insight
Enhanced by self-reflection's light
And tests responsibility
In terms of our civility.
Here, selflessness is our just cause
Relying on a moral clause
That accepts human frailities,
Conditions and proclivities.
Price for respectability
never means to spend money like water
While the wife of a poor country’s president
was outside at a shop that sells luxury items,
the shop window broke and cut her purse
and tons of bloody dollars slide out like a rocket
Virtue
of Loyalty:
dependability
sincerity, devotedness
fidelity, credence-
noble to be
Loyal.
Virtue
of Honesty:
respectability
transparency, morality
accountability-
noble to be
Honest.
Virtue
of Eagerness:
vim, determination
committedness, vitality
exhilaration, flare-
noble to be
Eager.
Virtue
of Cleverness:
acuity, quickness
inventiveness, sagacity
artistry, intellect-
noble to be
Clever.
May 18, 2021
Heptastich is a non-rhyming verse poem of 7 lines;
Syllables are; 2-4-6-8-6-4-2
Let is flow like runny honey your sweet creativity,
Let is shine all sublime your original artistry.
For you have your place with such grace and respectability,
Do your thing so it may bring you peace and sheer stability.
~ For 'Liberum Divisa 5 Poetry Contest', Sponsor: Gregory R Barden~
Taken from 'Inspiration for writers'
Let is flow like runny honey your sweet creativity,
Let is shine all sublime your original artistry.
For you have your place with such grace and respectability,
Do your thing so it may bring you peace and sheer stability.
Express yourself with no fear for we all have our place
to be a part of greater art where others can embrace...
Your theories, your ideas, your feelings from your heart,
Know your worth born on earth to be a working part.
Write, write, write and to delight write on til all duration
Be proud of you and all you do for such imagination !
During these times, our cities stand bare.
In picturesque grey, without a busy business.
A mask the merchandise wear standing there.
In silent closure, venues lost all their riches.
Suddenly, blown down by the wildest hurricane.
Storms wrapped in a riddle made business failed.
A blitz from the mythical sky to the premises came.
Lapping each day with rapid vortex rain and hail.
The dark energy defines our impregnability.
Pierce the veils with deep dimension floods.
The shock takes us there, to a place of poverty.
There the metropole is hidden by the clouds.
We see now our lives bare as the autumn trees.
With hardly anything of merchandise to boast.
Yet, hidden behind the clouds, there are cities.
Wearing clothes of gold-lined along the coast.
They froze in an aura of respectability nearby.
Anxiety spreads and grinds to an immediate debt.
Far in the sky, heaven hears our mother city cry.
For compensation given with faltering breath.
Borrowing and worrying loom as winter gloom.
Hope offers the boom of gifts we love so vainly.
Government masquerades rise in compassion.
As the cunning masters of infinite mercy.
Power to the people majority understand good over evil. Evil can't change the truth of the hearts of not one. We individually yet collectively ideas, thoughts, actions, together are the people. We The people. Respectability combine with self-esteem was poured into a glass. Add moral worth announce happy hour drinks free 365 days of the year. Correctness of character and behavior becomes a drunken trend. All want to be free with no other controlling our life influencing our decisions. The world itself really not such a cruel place. Some times the weather bad & at times the ground shake. Ironing out the hypocrisy of self while agreeing with manipulation for pay & profits leading some to deception alley. Gray areas and dark places not visible; hidden in conceited situations. Broken tragedies of former pride humbled to humility. To search and acknowledge the good buried deep inside. A blessing here and now cleansing sins B-4 one's end. Preparation for eternity to begin. Humility an underrated priceless treasure no dust or rot can touch....
Enjoy!!!!
We became blind to His love for us
Failing to honor Him in our worship
His choices now offend us
And our offerings now offend Him
Our hearts refuse to take Him in
So, we go through the motions
For the appearance of respectability
We are hypocrites
Asking Him for His blessing
While dishonoring His name
We have turned back from following Him
Our speech becomes ever more sinful
Showing partiality in His instructions
Showing lack of influence by the Spirit
We are disillusioned
Accusing Him of injustice
Because the wicked are prospering
While our own service to Him is unprofitable
So, we withhold from Him
And become more self-assertive
Dealing treacherously with each other
We are lacking spiritual kinship
Yet, it's because of His justice
We still have space to repent
To return to Him and regain His blessing
To avoid the curse and coming judgment
He will send Elijah before that Day
To break the stalemate
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